Growing, Growing, Grown

Ryan McGuire via Pixabay

I've noticed that there are seasons on Facebook. Homecoming. Holidays. Prom. Graduation. Summer vacation. Each brings photos -- high school kids looking glamorous, smiling families, beautiful beaches, mountain views, diploma-wielding young adults -- and each can be a little bittersweet. Behind the smiles and the scenery are myriad emotions -- the escort that got away, the family member no longer at the table, the exhaustion that accompanies that triumphant hike to the top of the mountain.

Currently, back-to-school season and its companion, the college drop-off, are dominating Facebook. Excitement and anticipation mingle with a reluctance to let go of summer and an apprehension about what lies ahead.

I'm currently in my third college drop-off season with my first and only child. Freshman year was tough; we went from parents to empty-nesters in the space of one twenty-four hour period. We counted the days (literally) until Parents' Weekend, caring nothing about the activities the college had so meticulously planned and everything about wrapping our daughter in a hug and spending as much time with her as possible.

Last year was a little bit easier. She was ready to go back, excited to see her friends and less apprehensive because she had a good idea of what lay ahead. We had a wedding to attend in October, and so she was coming home for a weekend after a little more than a month away. We could do this. We had experience with the empty nest and it wasn't all bad.

This year, she was home for three weeks in May and two weeks in August. The summer was busy, which made it go by quickly.

And I'm not ready.

Isn't this supposed to be a progression? Freshman year is tough -- we expect that. Sophomore year, a little less tough than freshman year and so on.

So why do I feel as though I'm going backward?

If being busy is the antidote to missing my daughter, then I believe I've found a cure. The trouble is that overdosing on the antidote isn't good either. Before I knew it, all that busyness spilled over into summer, cutting short my already limited time with my daughter, leaving me unprepared for the end-of-summer goodbye that comes all too soon.

She leaves Sunday and, today, I find myself wondering whether it's the busyness of summer or the dawning of a reality I've dodged for two years catching up to me. When she left for college, a part of me knew she'd never come back home in the same way again, but I chose to put that information in a little box on the shelf until I could deal with it. Although I'm not sure I'm ready to acknowledge the contents of that box, her summer away from home has nudged the lid off, sending the essence of the adult life that stretches out before my daughter floating in my direction.

All of their lives, we talk about our children growing up. It's tough to see them go from infants to toddlers to preschoolers and beyond, but these are stages we expect. I even teach this stuff but, somehow, I never thought about the cusp between growing and grown. There's no developmental norms sheet from the pediatrician for that gray area, no textbook to discuss the attributes, no Facebook photos documenting that wisp of time.

But ready or not, here we are.

Alexas_Fotos via Pixabay